Filed To Story: Queen of the Battlefield Her Return to Glory Novel Online Free
“Marshal Sanford, when do you think Marshal Crow will make his move?” Willard asked.
Rafael swallowed the dried meat with difficulty, feeling some pain in his stomach.
He quickly drank some water to dull the pain before replying, “It’ll be within two days. He can’t wait much longer.”
“Maybe not so quickly,” Willard countered. “He’ll probably send scouts first. After all, our forces are scattered. Won’t he suspect a trap?”
Willard thought their plan wasn’t too complicated. If Victor was more cautious, he might not fall for it. Rafael grinned. “Like I said, he can’t afford to wait. He has no other choice.”
Sure enough, two days later, Victor led his main army toward the foggy mountain pass, launching his attack.
Louis’ troops were no match for the advancing Sandorian army. When they charged in, Louis and his troops fled in a hurry, not even attempting to put up a fight.
Although Victor was desperate, seeing the situation made him think they might be walking into a trap. However he noticed the Southern Frontier Army hadn’t taken the grain with them, having left it all in a flat area in the mountain pass. He even checked himself; it was definitely food.
He considered that the Southern Frontier Army had already been ambushed once, and their main force was scattered. So, it made sense that the remaining soldiers would be too fearful to confront them.
On the other hand, the Sandorian soldiers were ecstatic. The sight of the grain sent them into a frenzy, and they immediately began dancing with joy. Some even grabbed handfuls of grain and net shoved it into their mouths, savoring the sweet crunch and the rich, earthy flavor that made it feel like the finest delicacy in the world.
The cheers of the soldiers filled the air as they reveled in their good fortune. The pile of grain, though not plentiful, was enough to feed them once for a few days. If they ate only!
a day, they could stretch it for nearly a week. By then, they could take advantage of the Southern Frontier Army being stuck there and storm Simonton City.
Their excitement drowned out any sense of looming danger, erasing the cool-headedness that had once been Victor’s trademark. As they set up large cooking pots, ready to prepare their meal, the rumble of rolling stones reached their ears.
Many of the soldiers looked up, but the sight that met their eyes was one of smoke and dust as something heavy came crashing down from above.
“Run! It’s an ambush!” someone screamed, but the shout was swallowed by the deafening roar of falling rocks.
It was a deadly storm of boulders. Those who failed to flee in time were crushed, their bodies scattered and shattered by the relentless onslaught.
A jolt of panic shot through Victor. He scrambled to mount his horse, drawing his sword with a roar. “Take the grain! Retreat, now!”
The soldiers of Starhaven were so cunning. They had used the grain as bait!
Victor was the first to retreat, but the ground beneath him trembled as the sound of pounding hooves and marching feet grew louder, coming from all directions. His eyes widened and his mind went blank. The hand holding his sword slowly lowered as a realization hit him.
This black mountain, covered fully in snow, would mark his end.
The battle raged on with a ferocity that turned the sky to dusk and the earth to mud. Blood, corpses, severed limbs, and agonized cries filled the air, suffocating Mount Whitemist in their wake.
Death came with the daylight, and the mountain was bathed in a thin, warm golden hue.
Rafael rode in, shouting for them to surrender and hand over Victor.
Victor shouted equally loudly, retorting that the people of Starhaven were treacherous. Once they laid down their weapons, only death awaited them. But if they fought on, there was still a slim chance of survival.
Yet, how could they hope to fight? The Starhaven forces were armed to the teeth, with six-barreled matchlocks capable of picking them off from afar.
It was a battle they could never win.
One by one, Victor’s men fell, lifeless in the blood-soaked earth.
Victor raised his sword, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions: failure, death, despair.
Once, he had stood tall on the Southern Frontier-a hero among his people, his family’s name soaring to new heights thanks to his victories. He was the pride of Sandoria, cherished and celebrated.
Now, everything he had gained from that land was slipping away, lost to the very land he had conquered.
He looked at Rafael, but the hand holding his blade had no strength left. Trembling, he could only point it weakly at his old enemy-there was too much unwillingness to accept reality in his heart.
In the end, Victor turned the blade on himself. Even with swords from all sides pressed against his neck, his blade reached his chin, cutting a thin line of blood.
Victor raised his head, locking eyes with Rafael, a cold fire burning in his gaze. “You cannot kill me. I will die by my own hand.”
With those final words, he tilted his head back, the blade cutting deep into his throat. Blood poured out in a torrent.
Louis was the first to withdraw his blade. “You may choose to die by your own hand. It matters not to us. We only seek your head.”
Above them, black crows and eagles circled, their wings blotting out the sky. Their cries were a funeral bell, foretelling the end.
As Victor’s life slipped away, the last thing he saw was the darkness before him, filled with the sound of death.
Victor’s head was severed with a brutal swiftness. The flow of blood had slowed, and the vast gaping hole in his neck no longer caused anger among the Sandoria soldiers. Instead, it was fear that gripped them. With no leader, struggling any further meant death-perhaps an even worse one.
–
They could barely fight anymore. They were too hungry and exhausted, and even breathing was difficult. Slowly, they began to drop their weapons, one after another. Surrender was their only option now. Perhaps as prisoners, they could gain a sliver of mercy.
An urgent dispatch was sent to the Starhaven capital, bearing word of their victory.
Before this, there had been no other report except for the previous urgent dispatch. No news had come to confirm whether the Hell Monarch had been found.
Many had already braced themselves for the inevitable defeat.
But then, a messenger rode in from the outskirts, bearing the report of victory. His shout of “A great victory for the Southern Frontier!” echoed through the gates, and the streets erupted in joy.
People followed the messenger as they called out, their cheers carrying all the way to Royal Street. The dispatch was swiftly delivered into Jeremiah’s hands, who wasted no time in presenting it before Salvador.
Salvador’s hands trembled as he tore open the long report, which recounted every detail of the battle He devoured it eagerly, almost greedily. When he finished, his heart burned with pride, a fiery heat spreading through his chest. He could not calm himself.
This victory had been hard-won, but they had done it.
He had done it.
Jeremiah also read the report, and with each line, his smile grew wider. He couldn’t hide his delight.
“The Southern Frontier Army is invincible and unstoppable,” he remarked.
His words were aimed at the Southern Frontier Army, not the Hell Monarch.
During the battle, Salvador had placed his faith in Rafael’s success. But once the battle was won, his thoughts would shift elsewhere. much military merit on a singl person was best left unspoken-it wasn’t something to bring up too often in Salvador’s presence.